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becky

I have a friend I’ll call Becky — because her name is Becky and I don’t have any reason to try to camouflage it with an alias.

She and I have worked together for about 15 years. She and I have had our ups and downs [years ago!] but for the last 12 or so she has been a dear friend. She’s a confidant, a counselor, a mentor, and example. She is amazing! She has so much work ethic, stamina, self-discipline, self-motivation. She goes the extra mile every single day.

And this week, while I was camping, she and her son Shawn, mowed my lawn a couple of times and watered so I didn’t have to come home to an over-grown, scraggly and burnt-brown lawn.

I daresay I love this woman like a sister.

We have so much in common: husbands who kind of make us crazy, husbands who kind of make us cross, kids who go astray every now and then, we sit in church alone, we do our callings and jobs, we do the bulk of all the housework at home, we get frustrated about the same guy at work who takes advantage and uses the system to get whatever he wants — you know who you are! We talk to each other and listen to each other, hug each other, and support each other. We’ve commiserated and celebrated and laughed and cried and supported and loved each other.

But.

Because it’s part of my makeup to push away when I get too involved, I’ve pretty much sabotaged our friendship over the years. When I feel us getting too personal or too sensitive or too enmeshed, I do something stupid to hurt or upset her. I say something careless or thoughtless. Or I prematurely walk away in the middle of a conversation. I don’t understand why! It’s like I’m claustrophobic and can’t let myself get too close.

I’m really tired of this character flaw!

I know people who have great friendships. They travel together and call each other every day. They lunch together and go to movies. I have a friend, Holly, who goes on trips with her three best friends. These are friends from high school who support and love each other through all kinds of trouble and frustrations. I joined facebook so I could find some old high-school friends and keep in touch, but I tired of it within a couple of months. And my stake president counselled us all to not spend so much time on there. So I didn’t connect with anyone particular.

My daughter, Tracy, has a gazillion friends. Really close friends. And I seriously don’t understand how that is even possible!

Of all the people I associate with and know, I think Becky is really the only person I would call a close friend. One day Mikelle asked me if I had a friend. Seriously, she had to ask. Ouch! I said, Oh my goodness, yes. There is Terry and Cheryl and Mary and Marla and Andi and Kay and Trish and Pauline, and Holly and Susan and Mrs. Eyre and Keri and Lisa and Tami and Ruth and Blanche and Robin and Karen and blah, blah blah. She saw right through that and said, I mean a really good friend . . . .

Becky is who I texted when I got back in town.

Becky is who I called the minute I got her text back.

Becky is who I talked to on the phone for half an hour about a situation at work.

Becky is who said, come and see me today.

So yah, I have a friend! A dear friend. And I’m not going to be embarrassed about it anymore.

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I can understand why some people would resort to some artificial means to try to introduce peace into their lives when they don’t have the gospel and especially when pain strikes. I think I can see why that happens.